


Fuck the Bad Day Away

by OneStarryNight



Series: Fantasy to Reality [2]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Afterglow, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom!Max, Communication is Sexy, Cuddles, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, Dom!Furiosa, Dom/sub, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, F/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm, PWP, Pegging, Porn, Prostate Massage, Rough Sex, Smut, Sub!Max, Subspace, Top!Furiosa, Vaginal Fingering, post-apocalyptic sex toys, talking about sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28921917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneStarryNight/pseuds/OneStarryNight
Summary: Furiosa is standing in front of him now and he looks up at her. “You don’t think so?” She says, softly running her flesh hand through his still damp hair. “What do you think you want?”Max has a bad day and needs to unwind. Furiosa knows exactly what to do. Warnings for pegging and dom/sub
Relationships: Furiosa/Max Rockatansky
Series: Fantasy to Reality [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2121282
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13
Collections: Mad Max Kink Meme





	1. It’s Been A Hard Day’s Night

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this Mad Max Kink Meme prompt: “Where Max is a sub and Furiosa is his dom because sometimes he just needs to let go and let someone else take care of him for a while and Furiosa knows exactly what he needs. Bonus points for including aftercare.” https://madmaxkink.dreamwidth.org/450.html?thread=8130#cmt8130
> 
> This is a follow up to my “Fantasy to Reality” fic which involved Furiosa pegging Max. You don’t need to have read that fic to understand this one, just know that they’ve done this before. This time it's from Max’s POV and with some more overt d/s to fit this prompt. Everything is consensual, but please read the tags. Chapter titles taken from “A Hard Days Night” by the Beatles.

It’s been a pretty shitty day.

The ovens are out of order in the kitchen so instead of freshly baked bread for breakfast (which Max has to grudgingly admit he looks forward to) they have day old bean paste instead. And not even a full serving, since the paste has to last through lunch time in case the ovens aren’t back in gear by then. Then, on a half full stomach, Max makes his way up to gardens where he’s in charge of helping with the new irrigation system. He’s not too happy about that either because he’d rather be working in the garages where Furiosa is, but they had needed someone to take the lead on this project and the Dag had asked and he couldn’t say no to her, could he? (No, he couldn’t, not when he knows Furiosa told her that he’d do it and that it was okay to ask.)

So, he’s sweltering in the hot sun trying to direct some young green thumbs with the minimal amount talking. Except when you’re in charge people keep coming back to you asking questions, and you have to keep talking and explaining yourself, and it gets really tiring really fast, especially when they say the Dag told them to do something different. And then he has to walk all the way over to where she is and talk (some more!) to her and make sure they really are all on the same page, and then walk back and tell the green thumbs to do what he said the first time. Wait twenty minutes and repeat.

When lunch finally rolls around Max is relieved because that means a break and he can go see Furiosa. Except that the Dag wants this system all done today, so she’s arranged for their food to be brought up to the gardens for a working lunch. And what do you know? It’s another half ration of day-old bean paste, only this time its not even warm and soft by the time it gets to him, instead having settled into a room temperature sticky brick. Max resentfully chews his portion, angry at the ovens, angry at whoever’s in charge of fixing them who hasn’t done their job yet, and angry at himself for getting so spoiled that room temperature food five hours after he’s already eaten something else is somehow a disappointment.

He spends the rest of the day in pretty much the same way. More sun, more talking, more needless walking, taking apart and doing himself what the “helpers” get wrong, all on a growling stomach. Finally, dinnertime comes around and he’s looking forward to it because rumor is the ovens are fixed so there will be fresh food. This turns out to be a heartless tale spread to cruelly raise the hopes of the hungry. Instead there are rations bars that are usually reserved for when someone goes out on a trade run along with fresh greens. Kale apparently, full of fiber according to the Dag. Which is all fine and dandy until you have to eat it raw because your damn ovens are still out of order. Max doesn’t even have the option of commiserating with Furiosa, because when he inquires where she is, he’s told she’s busy in the garages and won’t be making it to dinner.

After eating as quickly as possible (Which isn’t quick as you’d think when it comes to chewing raw kale) Max heads towards the baths, hoping to beat the rush. Only everyone else in the Citadel whose bath day is today seems to have the same idea. So, Max has to stand in line and make even _more_ small talk before he has a chance to take a too quick lukewarm washing that leaves him feeling wet but not necessarily clean.

Yeah, pretty shitty day by Max’s books. He’s in his and Furiosa’s room, frustrated, waiting for her to get back. The more he dwells, the more antsy Max gets, irritated with himself that any part of the day was something he feels like complaining about. He ate three time today, worked on a project vital to the future of their community, and had a chance to get clean. So what if he hasn’t seen Furiosa all day, he used to go months on end without any of this before he settled into the Citadel with her. He’s going soft, getting used to the comfort he has here. He should be ashamed of himself, and he is, and it just makes him more upset, and he’s just drained, and still kind of hungry, and -.

He stops pacing the room and whirls around to face the door as it opens and Furiosa come in. She looks tired too, but clean and calm, and here.

Furiosa must see the expression on his face because she frowns softly and goes over to hug him. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing’s wrong, he’s okay, except he isn’t, and it’s so fucking stupid…

He tells her about his day, apparently _not_ talked out because the human capacity to seek sympathy is unlimited. He tells her about the hot sun and how he had to talk and explain until his head started to hurt, and how he was hungry, still is, and how he was probably rude to the Dag because of it, and how he now feels guilty because it wasn’t her fault and he’ll need to apologize to her, which will involve more talking…

He trails off eventually, looking at Furiosa who now is sitting beside him on the bed. She looks at him openly, unjudgmentally, which makes him feel even more like an ungrateful and frustrated asshole.

“It’s really stupid…” He mumbles, looking down at his hands.

“No, it’s fine. We’re all allowed to have bad days every once in a while, it’s what makes the goods days special.” She smiles and stands up. “You don’t have to explain your feelings, they’re there, and that makes them valid.”

Damn, she is so beautiful, so good for him. “Don’t _want_ to feel this way though. Just wanna…” He waves his hand in the air as though trying to conjure up the proper emotions. “I dunno, just wanna wake up and start fresh but I don’t think I can fall asleep, too… eh, wound up.” He has wound himself up, and it’s so fucking _stupid_.

Furiosa is standing in front of him now and he looks up at her. “You don’t think so?” She says, softly running her flesh hand through his still damp hair. “What _do_ you think you want?”

His eyes flutter shut, and he leans into her touch, already feeling his mind start to slow down, but not enough. “Don’t want to think at all” he says softly, and immediately the atmosphere in the room changes, becomes charged with something else. Her hand tightens in his hair and that isn’t a whimper that leaves his throat, it _isn’t_ \- oh who’s he kidding, it was totally a whimper and he does it again when he opens his eyes to look at her.


	2. I Find The Things That You Do

She’s looking down at him, face still fond but her eyes now hold a gleam of fire and control that makes his brain buzz in anticipation. She pulls his hair towards her, more, and he’s confused until he realizes what he’s supposed to do. A bit too quickly for his bad knee he slides off the bed and onto his knees in front of her. She sighs and loosens her hold on him, simply running her fingers through his hair.

“Max, look at me.” He opens his eyes, unaware that he’d even closed them. She smiles and strokes his face. “Is this what you want? Will this help you?”

How can she even ask that? But he knows she must, for her own sake, has to hear him say it. “Yes, I want this.” He tries to meet her gaze, but her eyes flash, and her hand grips his hair again and he can’t help but close his eyes against the sensation. It’s alright though, she’ll tell him to open them if she needs him to. He doesn’t have to worry, have to think here. She’ll take care of that for him. The trust is almost enough just on its own to quiet the churning discomfort he’s been feeling all day.

Furiosa steps forward and suddenly his nose is pressed against the front of her trousers. He inhales deeply trying to find the scent of her. But the trousers are too thick, or she just isn’t worked up enough yet, because there’s nothing really there. His hands start to move towards her belt as though of their own volition, but she jerks hard on his hair, pulling his face away and up to look at her.

“Did I tell you to move your hands?” He can’t answer her because all the blood in his brain suddenly relocates to his groin so fast it almost hurts. He just shakes his head and drops his hands to his side. “Good Max, just listen to me okay?” Her voice is back to being soft and he groans as she presses his face back into her crotch.

He holds still as she starts to rub against his, opening his mouth in case that helps her find some pressure. He can smell her now and he takes several full deep breaths, which somehow helps clear his mind of what shouldn’t be there and fog it over again with the misty haze that is her very presence.

After a moment she stills and huskily says, “open them up,” hitching her hips so that he knows what she’s referring to. He scrambles to get her trousers opened and pushed down her thighs and then his mouth is on her. Her scent it is overwhelming now, and it makes his head swim and his cock throb. He wants to touch himself, relieve some of the pressure with his hand or by rubbing on her leg, but she hasn’t said he can do that, so he leaves it be, aching and yet content.

Besides, his hands are occupied with holding her thighs, keeping her steady as he laps and sucks at her in earnest. She’s grinding down on his face making it sort of hard to breath, but that just keeps him deliciously lightheaded and fills his nostrils with her when he is able to inhale.

“Fingers” she says hoarsely, and he quickly inserts two fingers into her, fucking inside her along with his tongue. He alternates between sliding his tongue in with his fingers and sucking on her clit. He changes up the pressure based on how hard she grinds into his face, lighter when she back away a bit, harder when she presses close. His scalp is really starting to hurt where she’s gripped him, but its just another way she’s keeping him grounded and he loves it.

He can tell she's about to come when she starts moaning his name. He holds her fast and speeds everything up until she’s there, shouting and clamping around his fingers. He licks her through it and doesn’t stop when she comes down, even through she gives a shudder and starts back away. He needs this though, needs to feel her, taste her. Her scent if the best aphrodisiac, and if he can’t touch himself, he can at least touch her.

She lets go of his hair to cup his chin and reluctantly he removes his mouth from her. She presses hard on his bottom lip with her thumb until it goes into his mouth and he sucks on it, meeting her eyes. “Fuck, Max. You’re so good, so fucking good.” He gives a shudder at that and his eyes slide shut as though of their own volition.

Presently Furiosa recovers enough that she removes her thumb and grips his hair again. “Again?” She asks him, and he nods his head as hard as he can. She laughs kindly and pulls him back toward her body. He starts again just as eager but slower this time, wanting it to last now that the edge is off. He sucks and flicks his tongue, using his fingers as well. Furiosa is more relaxed now and she talking him through what she wants and Max loves it, loves hearing her tell him more, harder, faster, slower, this way, so good Max, so good.

It goes on for an age, and Max starts to lose himself in her instructions. He can’t keep track of anything else now, his knees on the stone floor and his hard cock forgotten. His world has narrowed down to her body, her scent, her voice and the only thing he’s capable of now is listening to her and doing what she says, drinking in her praise.

She comes less hard this time but no less beautifully. Max licks her through it again until she moves away and crouches down in front of him. “Max?” He opens his eyes and hums at her, tries to smile in a reassuring way but feels it might just come off as dazed. She clasps the side of his head and searches his face. “You with me?”

Of course he’s with her, he’s right here, _she’s_ right here, holding him, filling his head and his chest, settling like a warm glow around him. But she asked and he has to answer, has to do what she wants. “Yeah, here” he breathes out and looks at her. She’s so beautiful with her face still red from her recent orgasms, eyes sparkling, and expression filled with wonder as she gazes at him.

“Come here Max, lets get up now okay? I got you, come on.” And then she’s helping him to his feet and onto the bed. He vaguely thinks that he should be helping her, seeing has how she’s the one that just came. But it’s okay, having Furiosa help, take charge is okay.

They lie on the bed for a while still clothed, Furiosa stroking Max’s face and chest, whispering sweet nothings while Max dozes. But is he dozing? He’s right here, can hear every word Furiosa is saying even though its sounds far away.

Eventually Furiosa sits up to take off her prosthetic and Max shifts and starts to sit up as well, shaking his head.

“Max? You back?”

He looks at her blinking a few times to bring her back into focus. “Didn’t go anywhere. ‘M right here.”

She looks at him with a cautious expression on her face. “No, you spaced out for a while, went off in your head somewhere.” She leans closer cups his face with her hand “You okay? Do you feel like you’re here?”

He huffs out a breath he means to make exasperated but ends up just being fond. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m here.” He covers her hand with his own and she leans towards his for a kiss. It starts slow but heats up, becomes a needy kiss with tongue and teeth. When Furiosa pulls back Max realizes that his cock is trying to remind him that its been patiently waiting their turn. He takes a shuddering breath and pulls Furiosa back towards him, clashing their mouths together.

He’s back now, his body is itching and his mind humming. He was so calm just a short while ago but kissing Furiosa seems to have woken him up. He’s horny and wants to get off, but somehow that’s not all he wants, just that won’t be enough. He wants to stop thinking again, go back to letting Furiosa take control of not just his body but his mind.

She’s straddling his thigh as she kisses him and in trying to sit up some more her knee brushes his balls. Suddenly it ricochets through his mind what he wants Furiosa to do, how he wants her to take control, and he can’t believe he hasn’t been thinking this all evening. He breaks the kiss and gasps “Furi!”

She startles and snaps her eyes towards him “What?” She starts to back away as though afraid she’s hurt him, but he tightens his grip on her arm to keep her where she is.

“I want you to fuck me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally the whole idea for this fic was Furiosa doming Max and fucking him, rough sex etc. Then I started writing and ended up putting Max into subspace before we even got to the fucking. I left it in there because I liked it, so I hope it doesn’t disrupt the mood or feel jarring for them to move from urgent to slow to urgent again. Full disclosure, I have no personal experience with d/s relationships or subspace, everything I know is from FanFiction and research I did online. Hopefully what I wrote isn’t unrealistic, nor is the idea that Max could go from that to wanting to be fucked in a relatively short period of time.
> 
> Basically, constructive criticism is welcome! Drop me a comment with your thoughts, especially if you have any real-life experiences with these types of scenes. Or just say hi and let me know if you liked this, that’d be great as well!


	3. Will Make Me Feel Alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the fucking commence!

She looks at him as though he’d said he wants to go roll naked in the sand. “Max, you sure? I want you to be sure.”

“Yes. I want it.” He says it clear and confidently because he knows now that that’s exactly what he needs. He needs to get fucked out and blissed out, and not only in his head like earlier, but in his body and down to his very bones. If he feels even a quarter of what the first time was like he wants it, wants Furiosa to give it to him, take it from him, whatever. He _needs_ to feel, and not think, and getting Furiosa off was amazing but there needs to be something more.

She must see the conviction in his face because her eyes darken and fill with lust, and she surges back onto his face sucking his mouth until he has no breath left. They kiss for a while more and then Furiosa breaks away and stands up.

“Get up.” Her voice would probably sound hard to someone else listening, but to Max it’s just certain and in control. He stands in front of her, hands twitching at his side. “Strip.” Her gaze is hard on him, but it feels more like an anchor for him to focus on as he takes off his clothes. Normally he’d feel embarrassed for her to watch him with such intensity while he undresses, but he isn’t thinking about himself now, is just thinking that this is what she wants, so of course he’ll give it to her.

Once he’s naked, Furiosa also starts to undress, quickly and without flair. She isn’t giving him a show but he drinks her up anyway. She goes to the corner cupboard and pulls out the oil, rubber and harness. “Sit” she says, and he sits, watching as she washes the rubber off and sets herself in the harness. His blood is pounding in his ears and he’s breathing hard at the sight of her now, anticipation and arousal swirling together in his stomach.

She walks over and stands in front of him, close but not touching. “How do you want this” she asks, and Max almost lets out a whine because she’s supposed to tell _him_ how he wants this. But he can tell by the firmness in her eyes that she’ll make him choose, make him confirm by his actions that this is what he needs. So instead of staring any longer into that gaze that’s as intense as the sun, he simply scoots back on the mattress and turns onto his hands and knees.

Furiosa doesn’t move right away and he glances at her to make sure this is all right. He feels a flicker of nerves that maybe he didn’t do the right thing, this isn’t what she wants, he should have asked, he-. But then she’s there, kissing him, running her hand up and down his back. “Max, Max” she says between hard deep kisses. “Like this, you want it like this?” He nods, confident now. It’s not even a decision, not even a thought, he just _knows_ that this is what he wants, no thinking necessary.

She gives him one last kiss and then moves behind, rubbing his ass with her hand. It disappears for a moment and it’s back, or one finger is, slick and sliding through his crack and over his hole. He shudders, more in anticipation than at the actual sensation, and tries to keep breathing. She rubs around and presses down lighting up nerves he never would have though he had. A couple more strokes and then she’s pressing in, the tip of her slick finger entering him. A moan escapes him, and he says “More.”

She pushes in further and then back out, in even more and back, twist and in. He can feel every movement and its so heady, so much and not enough all at once. He pushes back to try and take in more but her stump on him ass stops him. He stills and tries to quiet his squirming. He’ll stay still for her, let her control this.

After a few more strokes she withdraws her finger and asks him if he’s ready for another. He says yes (Or he says something, it could be “yes, yes, more, Furi.” He’s not sure what’s making it’s way through his mouth.) and then there are two, and it’s a little too much but the stretch is delicious. He clamps down on them and groans. He’s hot, too hot, his face is pouring sweat already, and there’s so much more…

Max loses track of time for a while, doesn’t know anything except how Furiosa is moving in him. She’s moving faster, shoving her fingers in deeper and harder, twisting them faster, and it’s so good. It’s too much to focus on anything else so he doesn’t and misses what Furiosa says. She slows down and then pauses and he realizes she’s talking to him.

“Wha- Furi?” He feels dazed, his head is full of cotton and his cock is throbbing, dripping, so hard it hurts. But she’s talking to him, so he has to concentrate.

“Are you okay? Still okay?” She’s asking, her own voice a little rough, and the thought that this is good for her too makes his cock twitch.

“Yeah ‘m okay. Need more though.” She huffs an indulgent sound that could be ‘fool’ but he doesn’t know and doesn’t care because her fingers are back and now there are three of them. She hasn’t put quite enough oil on them in her haste and they burn, but somehow it’s a good burn, it centers him and makes the pleasure more acute. He’s moaning and thrusting back on her fingers trying to take in more of her, trying to fill himself up. She doesn’t stop him this time lets him take and clench around her as she twists and –

Suddenly his body lights up and Max feels as though he’s been shocked by an electrical current except that it’s deeper and it’s pleasure turning his brain to static instead of electricity. “Furi” He groans, his voice hoarse as though he’s been shouting. He wants to tell her it’s _so_ good, to keep going, to not stop, he needs more it’s so good. But Furiosa can read his mind, or at least his body, because she does it again, and again, and Max’s lungs are on fire and his brain sparking, his muscles starting to melt under the heat of this pleasure.

He again losses track of time, of space, of sound, of everything except the fullness and steady current of white-hot pleasure that shoots through him every time Furiosa touches that spot. It goes on for a small eternity until she again slows down, and her voice come to him through the ragged breathing that fills his ears. He can’t hear exactly what’s she’s saying for a while, but it’s okay, she knows and she’s there and she’ll wait, she always waits for him, no matter how long he’s gone.

Furiosa speaks again with a soothing voice as she rubs his back. “Max? Hey, Max, you okay?” He almost laughs at her for asking because he is _so_ okay, but that would require his control over his own breathing, something he doesn’t have at the moment. He settles instead for what he hopes is a vigorous and not shaky nod and grunts out a breath that sounds affirmative. “Good Max, you’re so good, want to keep going?”

He almost hesitates because that means she would have to withdraw her fingers and he almost feels like he might die if she did that. But the knowledge of what’s coming wins over, and he nods again, breathes out a shaky “Yeah” *inhale* “Please.”

Furiosa withdraws her fingers and he whimpers at the sudden lack of them, feels his hole try to clench around nothing. He tries to get his breathing under control while she gets ready and turns his head to look at her. Mothers, she is so beautiful, completely naked except for the harness, hand sliding over the rubber to get it slick. His cock twitches at the sight and he groans with the realization that she will touch him like that, later. She meets his gaze and her eyes are fierce and blazing and he almost feels afraid until it hits him like a punch to the solar plexus that she looks _protective_ , of him, like this.

He has to close his eyes, can’t meet the strength of her stare. He doesn’t know what to do with the sudden rush of emotions he feels. He feels off balance and unsure of what he should feel, of why he’s confused, he thinks he might start crying, but he isn’t sad, his whole body is still heaving, what is-

Then she’s there, draped over his back covering him, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, and it’s okay, Furiosa has him, he’ll be okay. She won’t let him fall away, or if he does, he knows she’ll pick him back up. He thinks he might sob her name, but she keeps holding him. She sits back, and he feels the rubber press against his hole.

She hasn’t even penetrated him yet and it’s already so much. Max wobbles on his arms as his elbows suddenly bend and he doesn’t think he can straighten them. “Here” Furiosa’s saying and then she’s moving him so that he’s braced on his forearms and his forehead is touching the mattress. This is good, he has a surer foundation this way and will be able to press back or at least hold his own when Furiosa starts moving.

She’s back behind and the rubber is at his entrance again. Max takes a deep breath and there’s a press, and then it’s _in_ , and he wants to sob it’s so beautiful. It’s so much more that her fingers, he can clench around it and there’s no give, it’s solid and hard and if he remembers correctly much longer than Furiosa’s fingers. She’s moving it in and out, slowly getting his body used to the presence. But he doesn’t have time for that now, he needs it all, right _now_.

“Furi, ah, move, go n’need more.” Fuck but he sounds needy, begging her, pushing his body back to show her he can take it.

“You sure? Don’t want to hurt you Max.”

He shakes his head vigorously. “Won’t hurt, ah, it’s okay, I can take, I, Furi!” Her name is drawn out of him like a magnet, the outside pull too strong to contain it as Furiosa shoves all the way into him. Tears spring to his eyes, the pleasure being amplified by the pain of this sudden press. She’s in so much deeper this time, the angle allowing her to reach him in a way that feels unreal. She does it again, and again, pushing almost all the out and shoving back in at a brutal pace that leaves him breathless and incoherent.

She grips his hip with her hand to readjust herself and then she’s back, pushing in and -Fuck!- He feels the rubber hit his spot again almost blacks out its so much, the speed at which she hits it combined with the fullness and length. He can’t do anything now, can only take what she gives him.

Oh, it’s so good he almost thinks it’s wrong somehow, like he shouldn’t be able to experience feelings this intense. It’s so much, and he can feel it from the soles of his feet to the pricks of light behind his eyelids. He presses his face down into the sheets and groans, rocking back to meet Furiosa’s hard thrusts. He’s so _full_ , like he’s been empty his whole life until he met Furiosa, and then she filled him to brim, filled his body, filled his heart… He wants it to go on forever, but his balls are heavy and tight and the pool of warmth in his groin is starting to sharpen into pain with the weight of an orgasm too long denied. He thinks he could almost come just from this, but he’s been sitting on the edge for a while now, just about to crest the wave. It somehow keeps building and building and it’s so good, but he needs to fall now.

He makes a motion to wrap his own hand around his cock, but his muscles aren’t coordinated enough, and he thinks he’d actually fall over if he wasn’t braced on both forearms. “Furi, need to come, please, need you…” Nothing for a moment, and then the hand that’s been gripping his hip so tight he’s going to have bruises there lets go and wraps around his cock. He shouts as though he’s been shot, and his hips surge up of their own accord to meet this new tight heat.

He’s going to _die_ it’s so much. Furiosa is still thrusting hard, still pushing him into her hand and his cock seems to have burst back to life after long neglect. He’s not even sure he’s feeling the sensation in his cock or his ass anymore, it’s everywhere, his whole body is pulsing with decentralized heat and pleasure. He thinks it’s too much; it will consume him until Max is gone and only the pleasure remains. He thinks-

And then he’s not thinking anything, he’s _gone_ , he’s lost in the white roar that floods through him and knocks him off his knees. It keeps going and going, the familiar warm pleasure that’s so intense this time it’s almost burning him, almost pain. He doesn’t know what he his, who he is, he’s being tumbled back to shore after the wave took him under and pummeled him.

It’s a long time before Max thinks he can breathe again, and even then he’s not sure. His chest his heaving (he thinks it’s his chest) but he doesn’t know, can’t be certain this is even his body. After so much sensation he doesn’t feel himself, he’s floating away, everything a shimmering haze. Time has no meaning here and he spends a whole lifetime detached, untethered to anything but the million points of light that dance around his consciousness, cocoon him in their embrace.

He comes back to himself slowly, reluctantly. There’s a humming in his ears that’s vaguely familiar and a pressure on what he’s starting to think is his body. His eyes move and blink, and then they’re open and Furiosa’s there. He realizes the humming was her voice and the pressure her wiping him off. He thinks he should say something, ask how she is, but his tongue isn’t working yet so he just opens his mouth and lets out a moan.

Furiosa is there in that moment, her hand touching his face, her voice a sweet wash of sound that’s better than any water shower. He can hear her more clearly now, make out that she’s saying ‘Max’ and ‘drink.’ He opens his eyes and sees she has a cup ready for him to drink from. He tells his arm muscles to move but they still seem to be out of commission. She must sense this because her stump is under his neck now, and she’s lifting his head to get him to drink. A tiny flicker in him says this is embarrassing, being so helpless, but he doesn’t have the energy to listen to it right now. So he shuts it down with a flutter of his eyelids and drinks, lets Furiosa do the heavy lifting, the thinking right now.

There’s some reshuffling and then she’s lying down and dragging Max with her until he’s draped across her, head pillowed on her breasts. They lie quietly for a while as she strokes his back and he drifts. Eventually he comes back to himself enough to lift his head and look at her. He doesn’t know why he does it, he just needs to see her, make sure she’s okay.

She’s looks at him with an expression filled with care, softness, and love. He looks back at her, soaks her in, and he hopes his face is showing the same thing. “Thanks” he says softly, and her eyes crinkle in a gentle smile. He lowers his head back down and she kisses his mess of wild hair. They are quiet for a long time. Max sighs, content. His body is still tingling all over and there’s a delicious ache in his ass and a pleasant soreness in his cock. More than that, his mind is quiet, thinking of nothing except the gentle heave of Furiosa’s breath beneath him.

She breaks the silence with a whisper. “I talked to Dag at the showers. She said you did really well today with everything going on in the gardens. Said you did good work, were good with the green thumbs. ‘M really proud of you.” And isn’t that a wonderful counterpoint to this difficult day. Because Furiosa saying she’s proud of him for what they do in the privacy of these four walls is one thing. But her saying she’s proud of him for what he’s doing out there, what he’s trying to get better at… Well, maybe Max should say something in reply, but his chest is suddenly very tight, so he settles for quiet hum against her breast. He hopes she knows what he means by that, what he can’t say. But really, he shouldn’t worry. Furiosa has always known him best of the two of them; he’s sure she can figure it out.


End file.
